The Revenge of the Dink Dinks
by Random Stuff About Stuff
Summary: A few years prior to the movie, Jukebox Skytripper meets CheeseCrackers Hamcheese. What's up with the badger, and where are all the Dink Dinks? DISCONTINUED
1. A vicious badger

The Revenge of the Dink-Dinks!

By Random Stuff about Stuff

A/N this story is totally random. No, I don't care if it doesn't make any sense, I'm just writing this to make up alter egos for my favorite characters from Star Wars. And Luke. And no, no insult is meant to Star Wars, just compliments to Spaceballs, which I haven't seen in ages.

Disclaimer: I own Jukebox Skytripper, Bob/ Cheese-Crackers Hamcheese, and all of the other character that I made up. The ones I didn't, I don't.

Note: Please pretend the following words are floating across the screen.

_Loud rock music plays._

_Once, long ago, in a galaxy far far away that has nothing to do with the kingdom Fiona from Shrek lives in, there was an unusual thing going on. First of all, humans were living there, even though it was a long time ago in a galaxy far far away as the title clearly states. Second, and most important to the plot, is something that I can't quite remember. Ahh, yes, I remember now. Silly of me to forget, but that's what happens when we get older. It's my birthday soon, and I'm turning…_

_Characters from Monty Python and the Holy Grail: "Get on with it!"_

_Sorry. Anyway before the Spaceballs and Lone Starr and Princess Vespa and Barf and Dot and Pizza the Hut, and… Alright, alright, I'm getting on with it! Before all of the characters from Spaceballs met, something else was happening somewhere else. If you read this entire thing without questioning the writers sanity, than you need a mental checkup._

Second Note: the music was Jukebox's idea.

"Jukebox Skytripper," said the old man, "how did you get into this situation that I so conveniently appeared to get you out of?"

"I crashed," explained Jukebox.

"How?" asked the old man blankly.

But the boy seemed to have just realized who he was. "Bob Hamcheese?" he asked incredulously.

"The very same."

"Bob, do you have a relative named Cheese-Crackers Hamcheese?" asked Jukebox.

"Ah," commented Bob distantly. "Cheese-Crackers Hamcheese. I haven't heard that name in a long time…"

"Was she your tragically deceased wife?" asked Jukebox, intrigued.

"He, you imbecile, _he!"_

"Oh, was _he_ your tragically deceased wife?" repeated the boy.

"No, you moron, he was me!"

"Then why are you talking about him in third person? And why do people call you Bob?"

"Do you have any idea what its like to grow up with a name like Cheese-Crackers Hamcheese!"

"Hey, my name's Jukebox Skytripper. Apparently, I can't fly very well."

"And you have a bad taste in music."

"Well we _know_ that, just look at the second note in the intro."

Cheese-Crackers Hamcheese glanced up at the intro, which was still flying around above the screen. "Quite," he commented.

"Anyway, the point is, I've got this vicious talking badger that says it belongs to you. Any idea what that's about?"

"Hmm, let me see… Oh. It really belonged to your father, but I stole him after he became a homicidal murderer… I mean, after he died."

"Oh. How'd he die?"

"He was killed by that dude with a big head and the black helmet."

"Oh. You mean the one who keeps going "Juke, I am your father!"

"Yeah."

"Oh. So the guy who's always saying he's my father really killed my father?"

"Yep."

"Oh. That's nice."

"Yeah. It really is."

"Yup."

"So… About this vicious talking badger…"

"Yeah?"

"Think you could take care of him for me?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm secretly afraid that you'll grow up to be as murderous as your father, and the idea of a vicious talking badger in your bedroom is the perfect way to finish you off."

"Okay."

"And besides," continued Cheese-Crackers, apparently unaware that his victim had just agreed. "I got the Dink-Dinks to sell him to you so that he'd kill you."

"Okay."

"The Dink-Dinks were happy to comply. Seems your father killed a bunch of their buddies after their buddies 'accidentally' killed his mom, your grandma, so they'd be happy to help murder his only son."

"Okay."

"The thing is, now they want me to murder your sister as well, but I don't even bother to acknowledge her existence, so that'll be fine. I'm not attached to her."

"Okay."

"Not that I'm attached to you. In fact, I hate you, and you really, really annoy me."

"Okay."

"But that's only because you talk too much and you whine even more than your father ever did, and boy was _he_ a whiner."

"Okay."

"I mean, it was always: 'Cheese-Crackers never lets me do what I want' or 'Cheese-Crackers is holding me back,' or 'Cheese-Crackers is trying to teach me stuff I'm better at then him' blah blah blah.

"And you're just as bad. Always going on about how you actually have to _do_ something for once in your life, and on and on and on…"

"Okay."

"So that's why I won't mind killing you. I mean, you're so much like your father, who turned out to be a homicidal maniac, so I really don't want you around, especially if you're just gonna be whining the whole time."

"Okay," had Jukebox's voice suddenly become deeper?

"So no hard feelings about the whole murdering you thing?"

"Okay."

"And you _will_ take care of the evil badger while I sit back and watch it rip you to shreds… I mean, while I go on vacation?"

"Okay."

Now Cheese-Crackers, who had been pacing around the crashed car, turned to look at his victim. Here is and inventory of what he saw:

'Long pause. Crickets chirping'

Anyway…

The evil badger had just eaten Jukebox, and was grinning hungrily and Cheese-Crackers. The former Dead Guy (the group of people who ran around doing stupid things and nearly getting themselves killed) glanced up at the large cliff next to him and saw a group of Dink-Dinks watching eagerly.

"Hey," he called up to them. "I thought this thing would only eat Jukebox!"

"Dink Dink Dink Dink Dink Dinkdink," explained the Dink-Dinks, which roughly translated to, "But we feel like killing you too, and the rest of the world, because you all talk too much. Losers!"

Several very bloody minutes later, the badger grinned over Jukebox and Cheese-Crackers' remains (nothing). If all you had to do was eat a couple of morons like these, taking over the world was going to be fun. He just wondered why nobody else had done it yet…


	2. a badger walks into a bar

So _that's_ why nobody had taken over the world yet, thought the vicious badger as he sat on the ground, moaning. If you're wondering _how_ he was moaning, just remember that he was a vicious, _talking_ badger. Dink-Dinks give you indigestion.

The vicious badger stumbled into a bar.

"Hey, we don't serve drunks here," said the bartender.

"That's okay," answered the badger. "I don't want a drunk, I want a drink."

All of the people at the bar hooted with laughter. The bartender turned red.

"I mean, we don't get people who are _already_ drunk even drunker."

"That's okay too," repeated the badger. "I'm not drunk, I just have indigestion."

"What could you eat that makes you unable to walk straight?" scoffed the bartender.

"Dink-Dinks," explained the badger. "Their cloaks taste worse than Dead Guy robes."

Everyone swallowed hard, except a swallow, who scowled at the pun and left the bar in disgust. One thought ran through the minds of the remaining drunks: _if he ate a Dead Guy, he could eat us next_.

Apparently, the bartender was thinking that too, because he didn't give the badger any more trouble. One drunk slide up to the badger and held out some sticks.

"Hey, you wanna buy some cinnamon sticks?" he asked slyly. The man next to the badger waved his foot.

"You will give me all your cinnamon sticks," said the man

"I will give you all my cinnamon sticks," repeated the drunk.

"Thank you," said the man, waving his foot again, as if by habit.

"Thank me," answered the drunk obediently.

"Hello," said the badger, interested in his mind-control techniques. If he had those, he wouldn't need to eat any more Dink-Dinks. He could have an army!

"Hello to you too," answered the man.

"I'm a vicious talking badger," said the vicious talking badger.

"I can see that," said the man.

The badger paused for a moment, waiting for a response. The man went back to his cinnamon sticks.

"And who are you?" asked the badger pointedly.

"I am Dead Guy Master Window," said the man.

"Cool," said the badger. "I ate a Dead Guy, you know."

"Yes, I heard," said Window. "Did you know which one?"

"He was called Bob (Cheese-Crackers) Hamcheese."

"Cool," said Window.

"Did you know him?" asked the badger.

"Yeah," said Window. "He had it coming for a looooooooooooong time."

"Will you teach me how to do that?" asked the badger.

"Okay, first say 'long'."

"Long," said the badger, unsure how this would help him control minds.

"Now say 'oooooooooooo'."

"Oooooooooooo"

"Now say the first to letters in 'long', followed by 'oooooooooooo', then finish 'long'."

"Looooooooooooong."

"And now you did it."

"Did what?" asked the badger, completely confused.

"Said Looooooooooooong the way I did."

"How will that help me control minds?" asked the badger.

"What does mind control have to do with anything?"

"I asked you to teach me how to do it!"

"When?"

"Just now, I said 'will you teach me how to do it,' and you said 'okay'"

"That wasn't when you asked me to teach you mind control, that was when you asked me to teach you to say 'looooooooooooong'."

"So you admit that I asked you to teach me mind control!"

"When did I do that?"

"Just now! You said 'that wasn't when you asked me to teach you mind control,' which directly implies that I actually asked you teach me mind control!"

"It does not!"

"Does too!"

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"Does not!"

"Look, will you teach me mind control or not?"

"Only if you'll admit that I didn't imply that you asked me anything!"

"You _will _teach me mind control."

"Hey, I'm the one who can control minds, not you!"

"You _will _teach me mind control, or I'll wash down Cheese-Crackers Hamcheese…"

"Bob!" shouted Cheese-Crackers' ghost, appearing out of nowhere.

"Or I'll wash down Hamcheese with wash down Hamcheese with _you_," growled the badger, completely ignoring the reincarnated Dead Guy.

"Okay then, lets go," said Window.

"Go where?" asked the badger suspiciously.

"Go to the Dead Guy's place on Croissant."

"Hey, you can't take him there!" exclaimed Cheese-Crackers.

"Why not?" demanded Window.

"That's for Dead Guys only," insisted the ghost.

"Fine. Now he's my apprentice."

"Fine. But that won't work."

"Why not?"

"He's too old."

"Watch who you're calling old, Grandpa," snarled the badger.

"No, too old to begin training," explained the ghost. "It just means you're over four."

"But I'm not," said the badger. Everyone stared. "What? We robot badgers mature quickly."

"You're a _robot_!" exclaimed Window.

"No I'm not," lied the badger quickly.

"Yes you are," said Hamcheese. "See, Window? It _really_ won't work out between the two of you."

"Shut up, _Cheese-Crackers_," retorted Window.

"It's Bob!" the dead Dead Guy exclaimed, disappearing.

"That was weird," commented the badger. "So, will you teach me to use mind control now?" he asked eagerly, getting back to more important matters.

Window sighed. "One thing at a time, Peanut Butter."

"Peanut Butter?"

"It's what Dead Guys call their apprentices."

"Oh. Okay."

"One…"

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do Dead Guys call their apprentices Peanut Butters?"

"No idea. It's an age old tradition."

"It's random."

"Are you finished?"

"With what?"

"Interrupting me. We can't begin your training until I finish my sentence."

"Fine. Be that way."

"Thank you. I think I will," said Window, and he continued. "One thing at a time, Peanut Butter. First we must go," he gestured dramatically at a wall "to the Dead Guy Treehouse!"

"In a wall?" asked the badger skeptically.

"Who's AWOL?" demanded the drunk who sold cinnamon sticks, reappearing at Window's elbow.

"Cheese-Crackers Hamcheese," said Window, smiling mischievously.

"It's BOB!" shouted Hamcheese, appearing again.

"Whoa, Holy #$!" exclaimed the drunk, looking shocked.

"Excuse me, but #$ is not holy," said an educated looking gentleman.

"But that man just appeared out of nowhere!" said the drunk.

"That still doesn't make #$ holy," retorted the gentleman, sipping his drink.

"Hey, wanna buy some cinnamon sticks?" asked the drunk slyly.

"No, you sold them all to this Dead Guy here," said the gentleman. "And I wouldn't anyway: cinnamon sticks are unhealthy for your health."

"Goodbye," said Hamcheese, looking offended.

"What's that chap on about?" asked the gentleman, raising his eyebrows so hard his monocle fell off.

"He's dead," explained Window.

"Well I know that, dear lad, he is a _Dead_ Guy after all."

"He's deader than most Dead Guys, alright?" demanded the Dead Guy.

"Quite so, quite so. Would you mind informing this man that if he does not cease and desist to attempt to sell me cinnamon sticks, I shall have to inform the authorities that he is illegally selling drugs?"

"You wouldn't do that!" exclaimed another man. "I didn't get enough cinnamon sticks before _that_ fellow took them all."

"Be quite, Anna," snapped Window, glaring at the man.

"Oh, you hush," said Anna, "I'm not a Peanut Butter anymore, Window, I can do whatever I want."

"Indeed," said the gentleman, looking at Anna over his newly replaced monocle.

"Are we going or not?" the badger asked Window out of the side of his mouth.

"Good idea," said Window, as Anna opened his mouth for another retort.

"Who was that man?" asked the badger as they went outside.

"Oh, he was a Dead Guy. Hamcheese's…"

"Bob's!"

"Go away. Friend Jukebox's father, Anna Skytripper."

"Oh. Will you teach me mind control now?"

"All in good time, my young Peanut Butter. All in good time," said Window, smiling.

Hope you liked that. I just added another because someone asked me to, and I don't take much convincing. Thanks to my friend Sally for the '#$ is not holy' joke, that's all hers. Sorry if I'm going a little too close to the real Star Wars, I'll try to back off a little in the next chapter or two.


End file.
